


you're going to die in your best friend's arms

by exhaustedwerewolf



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bleeding Out, Blood Loss, Canon-typical swearing, Deathbed Confession, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Disaster Beauregard Lionett, Kissing, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Really Character Death, Not-So-Final Confession, One Shot, POV Beauregard Lionett, POV Third Person, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhaustedwerewolf/pseuds/exhaustedwerewolf
Summary: After a fight gone-wrong, Beau finds herself bleeding out in Jester's arms. With nothing left to lose, she seizes her final chance to tell her best friend just how much she means to her.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 32
Kudos: 226





	you're going to die in your best friend's arms

**Author's Note:**

> You’re going to die  
> in your best friend’s arms.  
> And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,  
> \- Richard Siken, Planet of Love

The whole thing is vaguely amusing, in the way of a joke that’s taken just that little bit too long to wander its way to the punchline.

“Beau? Beau! Hold on, I’m here-”

For one thing, it’s a beautiful fucking day. Beau isn’t really the type to wax poetic about the weather, but it’s Misuthar, perhaps the first bright day of the year, and the sky is perfectly blue; a swathe of sunlit silk. Somewhere nearby, a songbird chirrups. The melted frost has left the grass literally glistening with dew, sparkling as if they’re encrusted with gems or sugar crystals or something.

It’s sort of a shame Beau’s bleeding all over such a pretty place, then. Even the coiled flank of the great big reptillian fuck that took her down fits in better than she does, its scales gleaming iridescent in the shafts of light. Gods, she hopes the others managed to handle the rest of its nest. 

“Caduceus?!” She hears Jester shout- that’s right, Jester has her in her arms, caught her as she fell- “Yasha?! We need help!” 

Blearily, she cranes her neck as best she can, to where the last vial lies in shards- she can’t exactly tell what’s blood and what’s the spilled remains of the healing potion, magic steaming off of the liquid, a faintly pink shimmer in the morning mist. Jester is still calling, her voice splintering into a near scream, but it’s unreal, like an echo of her.

“Anyone?!”

With a groan more annoyance at herself than anything else as she remembers the sound of the glass shattering- of all the times to _tread_ on a potion _-_ she sags back into Jester’s hold, sees her face looking down on her, drawn and worried.

“Jess…” Beau’s voice comes out rasping, breathless. “Jester,”

“No no no, don’t try to talk, okay?!” Jester demands, voice high and brittle. Beau opens her mouth to respond and pain twists in her gut like a snake- she curses, and Jester hushes her, smoothing hair from her forehead with a gentle hand. Beau’s been hurt before, but this feels different, she’s trembling from the cold, she’s untethered, on the precipice of a long, long fall. Instinctively, stupidly, she grabs at Jester’s cloak, as if she can hold fast enough to her that _this_ won’t tear them apart.

“Ow.” Beau says, with a huff of a laugh, when the pain’s receded enough for her to think again. “Fuck. I’m going to die, aren’t I Jess?”

Jester stares at her, lip trembling. And she bursts into tears; wet, heaving gasps, sobs that wrack her shoulders. 

“Oh, _oh Jess._ ” Beau says. The fondness she usually tries to swallow down seems to fracture in her chest, piercing her voice, and still, she can’t bring herself to care. She reaches up, shakily, to comb a loose lock of hair away from Jester’s face, tucking it behind her ear. This once, she lets herself be selfish, allows her touch to linger against Jester’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” Her voice is hoarse, ragged. “I didn’t mean to make you upset, yeah? Don’t cry, it’s okay.”

“How can you say that?!” Jester only cries harder. Beau feels her heart break a little with her every shuddering breath, but even this feeling is at once painful and distantly amusing, like the pain is already over, and she’s remembering this moment and finding it humorous in hindsight. It just seems... _silly_ that someone like Jester should be crying over her in the first place. “I- don’t have any spells and there aren’t any potions left and- and-”

“Shh. Of course it’s okay.” Beau smiles up at her, smooths away a tear. Her fingertip leaves a smear of blood, the red vivid against the blue. “You said it yourself; you’re here.” 

“ _Beau,_ ” Jester tries, but Beau shushes her again. She’s luxuriating in their closeness, drinking in the sight and the scent of her, commiting to memory the pressure of her hands against the wound. _This makes sense_ , she’s thinking. _This is always how it was going to go_. And maybe because this ending was inevitable, because she might as well stick to the script, Beau just comes out and says it. 

“I love you, Jess.”

“I love you too.” Jester chokes, and Beau can’t fight a rasping chuckle, a lump rising in her throat.

“No, Jester.” She sighs, and since it’s over already, since it doesn’t fucking matter, she pulls herself up, clutching at Jester’s cloak, and puts her lips to Jester’s. It’s fleeting, feather-light, but in the moment of the touch, the pain evaporates like a dissipating spell, and she sighs with relief into Jester’s mouth.

She falls back from the kiss, rather than breaking it deliberately, as her consciousness flickers, there and dark again like a dying star. Her eyes are on Jester’s face, but her vision isn’t quite there- like _Blindness_ taking hold in slow motion, but her scent is all around her.

“ _I love you_.” She manages, a whisper into the encroaching void, and then she’s gone.

“You’re awake!”

Beau responds with a noise part growl, part groan, and strains to open her eyes. She doesn’t recognise the old wooden beams holding up the ceiling, the scratch of the woolen blanket against her forearms, but the stale scents of woodsmoke and ale are enough for her to understand, despite the throbbing ache in her head, that she must be in a tavern. 

“ _Shit. Ow._ ” She grumbles, and discovers thanks to the ensuing coughing fit that speaking right now feels kind of like trying to eat sandpaper- she struggles to push herself up into a sitting position so she can breathe better, and strong hands guide her back to lean against the headboard.

“Here.” The voice is Jester, of course- she holds out a metal tankard to Beau, who grabs for it clumsily- Jester has to tilt it to her lips to allow her to sip. She drinks deeply, indulgently- it spreads through her like healing magic, like the coolness of shade on a scorching day. Only when Beau pulls away with a spluttered cough and a shake of the head does Jester set the cup down on the floor beside the bed, and wipes at the corner of Beau’s mouth with her sleeve.

“What- What happened?” Beau manages, glancing about in confusion- the room is small and sparse, dotted with candles, dusky light filters through the panelled window - there’s an uncomfortable lurch in her stomach as she realises that it’s _sunset-_ that can’t be right, it was… 

“The others found us..” Jester says, her voice is raw and tired, like she’s been crying and might still want to, but she’s cried herself out. “Everyone is okay. No-one had any potions or proper spells left or anything, but Caduceus did his _Spare the Dying_ thing and then after he rested-”

Beau remembers, then, the thick scent of blood, the softness of Jester’s hair, of her lips-

_Fuuuuuuuck._

Beau lets out a long groan and rests her head in her hands.

“Alright.” She says, muffled- she can feel her face on fire with embarrassment. “You can just go ahead and let me die, now.” 

“Beau!” Jester says, scoldingly. “Too soon!” But there’s a note of amusement creeping back into her voice, and when Beau peeks out at Jester through her fingers, her face has the touch of a smile. She swallows, and drops her hands.

“So, you don’t like… hate me, now?” 

“Beau, I could never hate you!” Jester’s expression softens, and for a moment Beau is suddenly incredibly grateful that she’s alive, so grateful to be looking into Jester’s eyes. With an irritated flick of her tail, Jester scrunches up her nose. “I wish you’d told me sooner, though!”

Beau ducks her head guiltily.

“I know, we don’t keep secrets. I just... didn’t want to make it weird.” She hesitates, and then, lifting her gaze, offering a hand out to her, adds, “You’re my best friend, you know. I get that you don’t feel the same way-” 

“No, that is not what I meant at all!” Jester catches hold of both her hands and draws them into her chest, pulling them closer- Beau’s breath stills at the feel of her heartbeat through her fingers.

“I wish you’d told me because…” She blushes violet- her eyes flicker away from Beau’s for a moment, and then back. “Ugh, this is like, really hard! Just…” 

Clumsily, Jester lurches forward into a kiss. 

It’s not so much a kiss as a collision- Beau freezes for a moment, and then her eyes fall closed. The whole thing is messy, frantic, the scramble of their hands clutching at one another’s with all the desperation of the day, like the last scrabble for purchase as the cliff crumbles. Jester’s fangs scrape against Beau’s lip- Beau makes an undignified noise of surprise, Jess huffs out an amused breath into the kiss, and the quiver of her laugh running through Beau is electric, bottled lightning. 

They break apart, breathless, Jester pausing to unwind a tangled curl from her earring, Beau blinking, blinking as if emerging into sunlight. 

“Jess.” Beau pants, dazed. “You just kissed me.”

Jester giggles, and nope, no- there’s _no way_ \- the only explanation is that someone’s fucked up just _so bad_ and somehow Beau’s soul has ended up in Elysium. 

“You kissed me.” Beau repeats. “There’s no way this is happening.” Jester sticks out her tongue.

“If it really wasn’t that memorable I guess I’ll have to do it again!” She jokes, and Beau is nodding before she can even finish.

“Please.” She says, heedless that the _want_ is bare in her voice, and Jester shoots her a sharp-toothed grin and, angling her jaw upward to better lean into the kiss, presses her lips to hers again, gentle this time, silk-soft. When she draws away, Beau puts her fingertips to the corner of her mouth disbelievingly. She can still taste the lingering mildness of Jester’s lipstick, her dulcet breath. 

“Oh my god.” Beau says in a very loud whisper, and Jester laughs again, but then her smile turns a little shy.

“I’ve _always_ liked you, Beau.” Jester looks up at her through her lashes, wringing her tail in her hands. “I mean, it took me a little while to figure out I _like_ -liked girls and then that I _like-_ liked you, and then I didn’t know if you liked me or if you _like_ -liked me, I have never done this before and you’ve had girlfriends and I was really _really_ nervous-” 

“We’re both idiots,” Beau cuts her off, laughing too, now. “Jester, of course I like you. _Like-_ like you. Like, it is not even funny how much I like you-”

“If _I_ remember correctly, I think you _loooove_ me.” A smug smile spreads on Jester’s face as she nudges Beau playfully with her elbow, and Beau rolls her eyes, trying in vain to shove her back.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Beau says jokingly, matching Jester’s inflection. “You’re not going to let me live that down anytime soon, are you?”

“Nope!” Jester says cheerfully, and then, flinging back the covers, “C’mon, budge up! I have been sitting in this chair all day, and the bed looks much more comfortable.”

Obediently, Beau shuffles over to make room for Jester to clamber into the bed beside her. She winces a bit at the ache in her side, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as she expects- she makes a mental note to thank Caduceus later. 

It’s kind of amazing how natural it still feels, to wrap her arms around her best friend, for Jester to nuzzle into her neck, but some weight inside her is just _gone._ There’s a lightness in her chest she can’t help but marvel at.

“I was really worried, you know.” Jester mumbles, and Beau hums apologetically, threading her fingers through Jester’s hair, gently so as not to tangle her jewellery. 

“Yeah, I know.” She rasps, throat tightening at the memory of Jester’s tear-stained face. “I’m sorry.” 

Beau feels Jester sigh, the rise and fall of her shoulders, the feathery exhale of her breath against Beau’s skin, and already, she’s thinking about kissing her again. It’s a revelation to know that in the morning, _she can._ That Jester will kiss her back. She feels herself starting to smile again, and shuts her eyes tight, buries her face against Jester.

“Get some sleep, okay?” Jester says, her lashes fluttering against Beau’s shoulder as she closes her eyes. “I am still your cleric. Doctor’s orders.” 

Beau chuckles, and ruffles her hair.

“Yes ma’am.” She says, and relaxes into the synchronous rise and fall of their chests, the headiness of her perfume...

Within minutes, sleep has begun to fall across her like a lengthening shadow, and the darkness is almost complete when she hears Jester’s whisper.

“Beau?”

“Hm…?” She replies, shifting to lace her fingers with Jester’s.

“I love you, too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fill for badthingshappenbingo - 'bleeding out'
> 
> thank you so much for reading! I'm also @exhaustedwerewolf on tumblr; my askbox is always open for requests, or if you just want to chat. hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> thank you @awkwardacity for betaing this! I'd be lost without you.


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